


Garreg Mach Mental Hospital: Golden Deer Route

by Catcateightyeight



Series: Garreg Mach Mental Hospital: Fire Emblem Three Houses [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Hospitals, Mental Health Issues, No beta: we die like men, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22618627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catcateightyeight/pseuds/Catcateightyeight
Summary: In the center of the city of Fodlan rests the Garrage Mach Medical Campus. On campus is a mental ward, where a variety of youths from across Fodlan have been admitted to help them overcome trauma and illness. This story contains snippets of their journey, brief moments that prove life exists even in the depths of insanity.
Series: Garreg Mach Mental Hospital: Fire Emblem Three Houses [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627006
Comments: 15
Kudos: 37





	1. Prolouge

In the City of Fodlan, there are three major districts. To the South, draping lengthwise across the city boundaries, is District Adrestia. In the Northern corner lies District Faergus. Nestled into the Eastern edge is District Leicester. There are many things that make each district unique from each other. From school systems to political leniences, sometimes these districts seem more like different countries than pieces of the same city. However, there was one thing that truly knit these districts together. That thing lay at the heart of the three districts, a location known as Garreg Mach Medical Campus.

The campus was home to the city’s largest hospital. It sat amid a fantastic gathering of nature, flowing with fresh air and shockingly removed from the din of the city. Garreg Mach Medial Campus boasted of owning the largest plot of land in the entire city, beating even the court house. There were multiple skyscrapers with floors dedicated to a wide range of medical professions. An Emergency Room and Intensive Care Unit took up the first several floors of the largest and most easily accessed building.

However, the most well known thing about Garreg Mach Medical Campus was the fact that it is dedicated to medical research and education. It is the number one teaching hospital in the country and the home of many cutting edge research projects. The hospital has been recognized on multiple occasions for its dedication not only to its patients, but its hand in improving medical care around the world.

This story takes place on the fifth floor of Building C, the young adult mental health ward of Garreg Mach Medical Campus. The floor is split into three, large wards. Only faculty and staff are allowed access between the three wards, with heavy, locked doors and security guards barring the path between each of them. Visitors are allowed access to the wards as well, but only with written consent from the patient and only during approved visiting hours. The wards are organized by which city district the patient comes from. It’s thought that being surrounded by people who share your culture can help ease the stress of being in a steril, unfamiliar place.

The wards are not wholly uninviting. Walls are painted in warm colors and there are no bars over the windows, though they do not open and are made of very strong glass. There is an open door policy. Bedrooms and meeting rooms are to have doors open at all times unless group is in session or a doctor is having a private discussion with a patient. A group recreation room is well stocked with books, snacks and coloring materials for public use. Each ward has a single phone that any patient has access to at any time, but they do have to share. There is also one computer with internet access. Each ward has two bathrooms with individual showers.

The Eastern facing ward houses the youth of District Leicester. There are many young men and women staying here from across the district. Some are from distinguished families, others are common civilians. Everyone is here for a reason, and the medical professionals of Garreg Mach Medical Campus will do their utmost to help these young people heal from their traumas and grow stronger. Together, this ward is known as the Golden Deer Ward.


	2. The Bet

Hilda sat at a round table in the rec room with some of her companions. Claude, ever the mischief maker, had come up with his next thrilling endeavor. He was smiling to himself while arranging a flipped over coloring page in the middle of the table so everyone could see. Fiddling with a crayon, he smiled to each person gathered around him. As Hilda watched his thin braid swing back and forth she began to wonder how he managed to work up the energy to style his hair every morning. She slouched forward and rested her chin on her crossed arms, waiting for the show to begin.

“Anyone wanna make a bet?” Claude asked, excitement oozing out of him.

“A bet?” Leonie asked, brow furrowing.

“Yeah, a bet!” Claude winked at her. “I was just thinking the other day, that we have an assortment of rather loud people gathered here in the mental ward. And I’m not just talking about our dear Raphael. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has occasionally heard shouting through the walls.”

The people around the table all nodded.

“So I started chatting with some of the nurses-”

“Surprise, surprise,” grumbled Lorenz.

Claude, with all the grace of a giddy child, ignored him. “And it sounds like there is one particularly loud person in each ward. I’ve gotten their names.”

He began to write three words down on the piece of paper in orange crayon. His handwriting was atrocious, but legible if you tried hard enough. Not that Hilda was willing to put in that effort.

“What are their names?” she prompted him.

“Dimitri in the Blue Lions Ward, Caspar in the Black Eagles Ward and Raphael, obviously,” Claude replied.

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t see how this relates to your bet, Claude,” Lysithea remarked scathingly.

“Hear me out,” Claude said, dramatically taking advantage of Lysithea’s interjection. “What if we place bets on who is the loudest patient in Garreg Mach?”

“Seriously?” Leonie deadpanned.

Hilda didn’t say so out loud, but shared Leonie’s sentiment. This seemed like a bit of a waste of energy, not to mention the absurd amount of trouble they would all get into if the staff discovered that they were gambeling. Claude’s poorly veiled attempt to flirt with disaster was almost sad.

“What would we even use to bet with?” Leonie asked.

Claude smiled, winked and whipped something out of his back pocket, tossing it on the table. It was a net bag filled with chocolate coins.

“Chocolate coins?” asked Ignatz curiously, peering at the bag through his glasses.

“Yep! Uncle Nader brought them for me last time he visited,” Claude beamed.

Ah yes, Claude’s Uncle Nader, who Hilda had a sneaking suspicion wasn’t really his uncle. He always seemed to bring Claude the most interesting things when he came to visit. Most of which had to be taken away from Claude due to his reckless behavior. Hilda sometimes wondered if this Uncle Nader was unwittingly enabling Claude’s adrenaline addiction. Although, chocolate coins and bets written in crayon were a far cry from attempting to balance on the slender backs of folding chairs, which Claude had attempted his first week here.

“I figured we could each take a coin, and bet it on who we think is the loudest. At the end of the week, the person we hear shouting the most, taking into account the doctor’s opinions on the matter, will be the winner. The people who placed their bets on that person will split the coins as winnings,” Claude delighted in explaining his plan with everyone.

“How are you gonna get the doctor’s opinion?” Hilda asked, mildly curious.

“I think I could talk one of the Eisners into giving me the scoop.” Claude smiled devilishly at Hilda.

Leonie scoffed, “Good luck with that.”

“Claude, this is a terrible idea,” Lorenz finally voiced his opinion. “We will get in so much trouble. And I don’t think gambeling is exactly proper behavior in a hospital of all places.”

“I think he knows that Lorenz,” Hilda commented listlessly.

“Ah Lorenz, where’s the fun in being proper all the time?” Claude sniped.

“It is hardly conducive to a healthy, therapeutic environment.  _ Some _ of us already suffer from enough addiction as it is without adding  _ this _ temptation,” Lorenz further debated.

Lorenz’s indignation was ignored when Lysithea spoke up. “I agree with Lorenz. Besides, this seems so childish, betting with candy.”

“I will have you know, Lysithea,” Claude said, folding his hands on the table in front of him and straightening his back, “That gambeling is a very adult pursuit. They don’t even let children within ten feet of the gambeling machines.”

And now he’s got Lysithea hooked. Scheming dastard.

“Fine, give me a coin, I’ll play,” Lysithea grouched.

“Undignified,” Lorenz grumbled.

Claude grinned, and after much struggling, ripped open the net bag to pass out the coins. Lorenz didn’t even grace his coin with the honor of his gaze. Ingatz picked up the coin and started thumping over the seam around the edge. His eyes took on that pointed, over concentrated gaze he adopted when something wasn’t quite right. The motions of his fingers became jerky and stiff, fingernails digging at the tiny seam in the foil.

“Are you ok?” Hilda asked, drawing attention to Ignatz.

“The seam of the foil isn’t exactly in the middle of the edge all the way around,” Ignatz muttered.

“Ignatz, remember what the doctors said,” Leonie called in the kindest voice she could muster. “The foil accomplishes its intended purpose, it doesn’t need to be perfect. Just let it be and sit with it.”

Ignatz looked between Leonie and the offending coin nervously. He let out a strained sigh and placed the coin down on the table in front of him. “You’re right Leonie… Thanks….” Ignatz wouldn’t be able to restrain himself for long, but just the fact that he was able to stop his compulsion, if even for a moment, was fantastic. If Hilda had the energy, she might even be impressed.

“So,” said Claude, drawing attention back to him. “Place your bets ladies and gentlemen. Who is the loudest patient in the Garreg Mach Mental Hospital?”

“Raphael. No question about it,” Lysithea said, tossing her coin over his name on the paper.

“What do you know! We agree for once.” Claude teased, placing his coin on top of hers.

Lysithea’s nose crinkled in irritation.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Leonie challenged.

“Oh? A dissenting opinion. Do tell us who you think deserves your gold coin,” Claude said.

“It’s going to be Dimitri, hands down.” Leonie tossed her coin down on Dimitri’s name.

“What makes you think that?” Claude asked. “As far as I have noticed the Blue Lions Ward seems the most peaceful out of all of the wards.”

“Hardly,” Leonie scoffed. “You weren't here a month ago when there was a fight in the Blue Lions Ward.”

Claude’s eyes widened at the juicy gossip.

“The shouting was so loud you could practically hear the words they were saying through the walls. They were pulling security from our ward just to contain the patients. Both Dr. Eisners were involved.”

“Both?” Claude mouthed, captivated by the story.

“I heard one or two patients had to be sedated.” Leonie finished her story by crossing her arms and looking smug.

“I’m beginning to question my decision to bet on Raphael,” Claude admitted, mouth twisting in consideration. After a beat he said, “Well Lorenz, who do you pick?”

“I’m not participating.” Lorenz glowered.

Claude’s attention immediately shifted. “And you Ignatz.”

“Well… I suppose I would bet on Raphael, but that might just be because I’ve never heard his shouting muffled by the wall. I guess my perspective on the matter is a little skewed.” Ignatz didn’t sound confident. He began fidgeting with his coin again.

“No reason not to have faith in our good buddy Raph! Now that leaves… Hilda. Who are you betting on?” Claude turned his smiling eyes on Hilda’s crumpled form.

She sighed, watching the coin shine as it turned between her fingers. “I don’t know. Put me down for anyone.” Hilda tossed the coin in the general direction of the paper, where it landed a little bit closer to Caspar than any other name. That was good enough, Hilda decided. It was better than having to choose.

Claude took everything in stride. “Alright. So that’s one for Dimitri, one for Caspar and three for Rapheal.” As he spoke he etched a tally below each name for each of their votes. Then he scooped the coins back into the bag and folded up the paper, tucking them away in various pieces of clothing.

They hadn’t wrapped up a moment too soon, because at that moment a nurse walked into the rec room. It was the sweet nurse with curly blond hair Hilda was rather fond of. “There you all are. It’s time for group.”

All the others stood up from the table and stretched, making their way to the classroom. Hilda was content to lay across the table just a moment longer. It was a long walk between the rec room and the classroom.

“Hey Hilda,” the nurse said gently, kneeling down next to her.

“Hey,” Hilda said with a half hearted smile.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked just as gently.

“Tired.”

The nurse nodded. It was the same answer Hilda gave every time she was asked that question, but the nurse made no comment on that. “Are those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?” she asked. There was no judgement in her voice, just quiet curiosity.

“Yeah….” Hilda admitted quietly, feeling ashamed regardless. They were the same clothes from the day before too, but she was really hoping no one had noticed.

“Do you think you might feel a little bit better if you put on some fresh clothes?” the nurse prodded gently.

Hilda grimaced. Fresh clothes might feel nice, but she knew what the nurse was implying. She was doing her best to not order Hilda around, and give Hilda the opportunity to take care of herself by her own volition. Hilda knew she was supposed to be telling herself these things, and not waiting for someone to either make her or do it for her.

“Yeah….” Hilda admitted again, still helplessly ashamed.

“How about you go get changed, and join us in group when you are ready,” the nurse offered, smiling brightly at Hilda.

Hilda nodded, got up from the table and walked down the hall, away from the growing hubbub in the classroom. The journey was arduous. Walking to Hilda felt tremendously difficult. It was like her feet had to pull the entire planet around to move below her feet, instead of moving her small body across the planet.

Once in the room she shared with Leonie, Hilda took a look in her clothing drawer. Everything was neatly folded and organized in sections based on type of clothing. It was something she had done in a spark of inspiration after group a few days ago. That motivation had not stayed with her. As she stared down at the six pairs of neatly folded, identically white underwear, Hilda wilted.

They were beautifully laid out in the drawer, stacked one on top of the other. But which one should she take? It would really be a shame to mess up the stack, especially after it had taken so much energy to create. Should she take the one from the top? What if she messed up the one underneath when she removed the top one? Should she take one from the bottom and hope that if she does mess something up no one would be able to see the mess? Or should she attempt to pull one out of the middle. No, that would definitely be too difficult.

Hilda left the drawer open flopped down on her bed, exhausted. Her long, pink hair fanned out all around her and she didn’t even bother to lift her feet onto the mattress. Maybe, if she took a short nap, she would have the energy to decide on this later. She wasn't giving up, she told herself, just postponing the decision.


	3. Portrait

Ignatz loved art. He had loved at ever since getting his first set of markers and construction paper as a child. Whenever his parents asked him what he wanted to do, it was always to go visit the art museum, or one of the traveling art shows. He would marvel at the way someone could take life and perfectly recreate it with oil or chalk. Even more impressive was when someone took something unreal, like a dragon, and drew it so that you could be convinced that it was real. As a result, Ignatz drew every chance he got. His parents loved that about him and promised to help him save up for art school.

When Ignatz had been admitted to the Golden Deer Ward, he had been excited to hear that there were drawing supplies available in the recreation room. They wern’t exactly high end materials, and Ignatz understood that. The hospital had better things to spend money on then good quality oil pastels. However, he was still disappointed in the selection; crayons, colored pencils, and markers. Not that these were bad options by any means, but there was an essential tool that was missing.

That was a pencil. More specifically a pencil with an eraser. Ignatz did not have the confidence to start drawing something without the ability to undo his mistakes. He had no idea how people whipped out fantastic drawings with a ballpoint pen. Just the anxiety around inking in your drawing before laying down the erasable guidelines was maddening. Almost as bad as the longing he felt to draw something.

Fortunately for Ignatz, the staff approved of his parents bringing him a box of pencils in a care package. He had received them yesterday, so he had been dying to finally sit down and draw. There wasn’t much in the way of subject material in the mental ward, so he had asked one of the other patients if he could draw them. Leonie had been happy to agree.

So he sat down and started drawing him.  _ Her, _ Ignatz reminded himself. Leonie prefered to be called a woman. He really needed to keep that in mind because Leonie had requested that Ignatz draw her looking like a woman.

Ignatz started the first line. It ended up being too long, so he erased a little bit of it. But then he erased too much, so he just rubbed out the whole line and started over. The next line was just right, but he realized that he had drawn it too close to the center of the page so he had to erase the line again. Such a shame since he had finally gotten just the right length of line.

Thankfully, the book she was reading was easy to draw. When Ignatz drew, he worked from the closest thing in the foreground to the farthest thing in the background. When he painted, he worked from the background to the foreground. That process just felt right to him.

Ignatz drew until the start of morning group. He had just finished the outline to a mostly satisfactory degree. There were still a few spots along the jaw and neckline he was fixing, but other than that he felt ready to begin the shading process. For that he would need to ask Leonie to sit for him again.

“Thanks for letting me draw you-” Ignatz stuttered.

Leonie must have assumed he was finished speaking because she said, “You’re welcome. Can I see it?”

“Um… Not yet. It’s not ready yet. I’m not exactly done,” he rushed out.

“That’s ok. Can I see how much progress you have made?”

Ignatz clutched the page close to his chest. “I don’t want you to look until it’s ready.”

“Ok,” said Leonie, sounding a little disappointed.

There was an awkward pause. “Would it be okay if I drew you again. Maybe during break after lunch.”

“Sure!” said Leonie brightly. “I’m not done with my book anyways.”

“Thank you, again. I’m going to go put this away now. I’ll see you in group.”

Ignatz rushed back to his room, carefully hiding his incomplete drawing in his pants drawer along with his pencils. Hopefully his very nosy roommate Claude would stay out of his stuff long enough for Ignatz to finish his drawing. He really didn’t like it when people looked at his art before it was perfect.


	4. Therapy Animal

Marianne had been having a really bad week. Her weeks were usually bad, but this one seemed worse than normal. That was fine, she didn’t deserve to have a good week. However, she still found herself missing the regularly bad weeks.

The change from normal bad to really bad happened on Monday. Marianne had tried to kill herself Monday. She had twisted the sheets into a rope and tried to hang herself from the railing on Lysithea’s bunk. Her timing had not been very good, which figured. Marianne wasn’t very good at anything so of course she screwed this up. Lysithea had discovered her and saved her life.

Marianne had been listless ever since. She spent all her time lying in bed, watching the sunlight shift along the walls. The beds in their room had been unstacked, and were now crammed against the back wall with only a tiny walking space between them. Lysithea said she didn’t mind, preferred it in fact. That didn’t stop Marianne from feeling terrible about it. She had forced the staff to rearrange the room, requiring a lot of heavy lifting, all because of her failure. That, and it was slightly embarrassing to be the only one who didn’t have a bunk bed in their room. Marianne didn’t like to stand out.

She had given up on eating. It felt wasteful for the hospital to spend its resources feeding someone as worthless as Marianne. She had cut back to one meal a day, a meal that usually required a nurse to coax her into leaving her room for. Another thing she had given up on was taking her medicine. The drugs were expensive, and just like the food, Marianned felt like they were wasted on her.

She could tell the nurses were becoming desperate, trying to get her to take her medicine. Yesterday, they had even let Lysithea attempt to convince her to take them. Her roommate hadn’t been successful, but she had tried her best. Marianne had been awake all night with the guilt she felt over having let her roommate down.

Judging by the lighting on the wall, it was late afternoon when she heard a knock on the door. Marianne didn’t respond, just continued to lay there and stare blankly at the wall.

“Marianne?” asked a soft voice, one that belonged to Ms. Dr. Eisner. “Can we come in.”

Marianne lifted her head up just enough to look over at the door. The Dr. Eisner twins were standing in her doorway. Those two had a rather fascinating story. They were fraternal twins, separated at birth and adopted by different families. Coincidentally, they were both named the same thing by their adoptive parents, and grew up never knowing the other existed. Both pursued a career in psychiatric medicine and met for the first time during their internship in Garreg Mach Mental Hospital.

The two of them seemed to think their whole story was quite funny, and insisted that they both be addressed as Dr. Eisner. They stuck together after their internship and were eventually hired by the hospital, working their way up to lead physicians in the mental ward over the next few years. During that time, it became the running joke to call them Mr. Dr. Eisner and Ms. Dr. Eisner respectively. Which also provided some clarity when talking about one or the other.

“Ok,” Marianne bade them enter, not finding the energy to smile at them.

They came in, Mr. Dr. Eisner doing a very poor job of hiding a large crate behind his back.

“We have brought you something,” Ms. Dr. Eisner said.

Marianne sat up, turning her body to face the twins. She wasn’t sure how comfortable she felt accepting a gift, not after she had been such a bad patient all week, but if they had gone to all that effort to bring her something then she couldn’t refuse them.

Mr. Dr. Eisner brought the cardboard box out from behind his back. It was an animal carrier, with little holes poked all around the side so the creature inside could breathe. He placed the crate on the end of her bed and opened the top.

Immediately a small, gray kitten popped out of the box. She landed on the bed between Marianne and the twins, and then froze, as if just realizing she was in an unfamiliar place. The kitten’s surprise didn’t last long, she lifted her tail high and began to investigate Marianne. Still overcoming her own surprise, Marianne held her hands out to the little creature, palms up. She sniffed, little nose working overtime considering the new smell of Marianne, and then began to clawlessly bat at her fingertips.

“We talked with the hospital and got clearance to provide you with a therapy animal,” Ms. Dr. Eisner explained. “My brother and I both think that this kitten could do you some good. Will you accept this gift?”

Marianne was overcome with emotions. “What is her name?”

“We thought you could name her,” Mr. Dr. Eisner said.

The little kitten climbed into her lap, stumbling over her legs.

“Dorte,” Marianne whispered.

“That’s a wonderful name,” he said.

The kitten, now Dorte, placed her tiny paws on Marianne’s chest and stretched up as high as she could in order to sniff Marianne’s face. Marianne gathered Dorte up into her arms and buried her face in the kitten’s shaggy fur. The kitten began to purr and went limp in her embrace. She didn’t know how to say thank you. How could you express the gratitude you felt when someone gave you something as precious as this? She had only known Dorte for a few seconds, but she was already the most important thing to Marianne.

Sniffing into the soft fluff, Marianne said, “I think I’d like something to eat.”

Both doctors gave her identical, tiny smiles


	5. Self Love

Claude was frustrated. He had just been released from his one on one with Mr. Dr. Eisner. The session had not got well from Claude’s point of view. Mr. Dr. Eisner had been going on about how Claude’s dangerous behavior was not very loving to himself. Claude loved himself just fine. He wasn’t vain or anything, but Claude thought he was an alright guy. He also loved the rush he felt every time he climbed to the top of a tall building or played chicken with the cars on the street at night.

Claude shuffled dejectedly into the rec room, plopping down on a chair at the circular table. He heaved a heavy sigh and looked around. The only other person here was Marianne, who was petting the kitten in her lap.

“I don’t get it,” Claude said aloud. He wasn’t sure Marianne was the right person to vent to, but she was the only one here.

“What don’t you get?” she whispered, not looking at him.

“Mr. Dr. Eisner said that my risk taking indicates that I don’t care for myself very much. That I don’t love myself.” Claude rubbed his face.

“Ok.”

“But I do care for myself. I wash my body, I feed myself. Heck, I even take the mood stabilizers they want me to take. On time and everything. How is that not caring for myself?”

Marianne thought for a moment, her head tilting to the side. “Well, I don’t know if I can explain it better than Mr. Dr. Eisner, but I can give it a try.”

“You can’t do any worse,” Claude griped.

Marianne bit back a self deprecating retort. After taking a breath, she lifted Dorte off her lap and placed the kitten in Claude’s.

Claude smiled and began scratching behind her ears. A gigantic pur rumbled in Dorte’s throat, much louder than Claude would have expected such a tiny creature to make.

“This is a kitten,” Marianne started.

“Right.”

“How would you feel if you saw the kitten way up high in a tree? High enough that if she fell she may hurt herself.”

“I suppose I would feel nervous for her. Maybe a little scared.”

“Would you try and help her?”

“Of course. I would climb the tree and get her down and tell her not to climb that high again.”

Marianne nodded, as if Claude said exactly the right thing. She took one slender finger and poked him square in the center of his chest. “You are the kitten.”

Claude blinked in surprise. Then he looked down at Dorte, lifting her up by her armpits and staring. Her little arms stuck out in Claude’s direction, and Dorte gave him a half offended look. He understood now. It wasn’t about liking yourself well enough. It was about treating yourself as well as you would another person, loving yourself like you would a precious kitten. Claude would never want any of his friends to do some of the shit he had done, so why did he let himself?

“Thanks Marianne, that really helped.” He handed Dorte back, the little kitten starting to wriggle now that she realized she was not with her human. “Here’s your kitten.”

“No problem. Sorry if it didn’t make that much sense, I’m not very good at explaining things. I probably just made you more confused.”

“No Marianne, really, you helped a lot. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”


End file.
